


Takes Some Getting Lost To Be Found

by pandoraspockz



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Fluff, F/F, Psychological Trauma, Violence, thasmin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-09-01 22:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16774354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandoraspockz/pseuds/pandoraspockz
Summary: After Yasmin is nearly killed during one of the group's trips she isn't quite the same. As she shuts the rest of the team out, the Doctor has to figure out how to help her before they lose Yaz for good.





	1. It's A Long Way Down

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, this will be a short (probably 5ish) multi-chapter fic.  
> Super-angsty (because that is my specialty it seems) with some eventual soft thasmin.
> 
> Also, you can find me over on Tumblr if you'd like, I'm @pandora-spockz. Please come say hi, and I think I may eventually start taking some prompts for these two.
> 
> Warning: Some slightly graphic depiction of violence in the first chapter and mentions in later chapters.

Give her giant spiders.  
Give her a space rodent eating its way through their ship.  
Give her an entire bloody army of turtles.  
Yaz would take it all and more. Anything but this.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been running. All she knew was that she hadn’t seen the others in ages. When the Draugnar (at least that’s what Yaz thinks the Doctor called them) had come crashing into their campsite, they’d scattered in different directions, trying to split the creatures in various directions to make it easier for them to pick off at a time. Equipped with the iron dagger the Doctor had given each of them, Yaz darted her way through the alien foliage, branches and bushes clawing at her clothes, trying to put as much distance between herself and those horrors as possible.

It was almost comical. Team TARDIS had faced worse than this, come in contact with some of the most dangerous and deadly monsters in the universe, but it was these Draugnar that made Yaz long for the days of simple traffic stops back home in Sheffield. Though a bit more complicated, physiologically speaking, the Doctor had likened them to zombies or reanimated corpses that spread their disease by biting their prey. These creatures, however, were alarmingly fast and hunted by scent due to impaired sight and hearing, making them much more threatening than the shuffling, groaning movie monsters of Earth. 

Yaz hated zombies. Always had ever since her sister had tricked her into watching Dawn of the Dead when they were younger. She’d had nightmares for weeks and her parents had grounded Sonya for even longer. Until now, however, it had all only been in her head, an imaginary specter that lurked in the shadows of her mind, because of course zombies weren’t real. But now? Now she was sprinting through the forest on an alien planet with the actual manifestation of all her worst fears hot on her trail. So, yes, anything other than this would be more than ideal.

She continued to run against the growing stitch in her side until she came upon a rushing stream. Remembering something she’d learned in her training about water washing away scent trails, Yaz threw herself down into the shallow brook, letting it soak her down to the skin. She had no idea how close the Draugnar had been behind her, but her body had begun to give out, spent from her long flight through the trees. She crouched in the cold water, quiet and waiting for any noise or movement to catch her attention as she gripped tightly to her dagger. Minutes passed and the forest around her remained silent, the only sounds coming from the water breaking against her body. Slowly, she raised herself up, eyes searching in every direction for her pursuer. Just as the tension began to leave her body, something large slammed into her from behind, her weapon flying from her grasp.

Yaz experienced the brief sensation of her hands and knees smashing into the muddy river bank, sharp pebbles sticking into the skin of her palms, before she was dragged backward into the water. Her shirt rode up against the current, stomach painfully scraping against the rocky bed of the stream before she was violently flipped onto her back. Coughing up the water that had flooded into her nose and throat, she had only a moment’s respite before scabbed hands wrapped around her neck. She felt the warm puff of ragged breaths wash over her face, the putrid smell gagging her further. She tried to push away, searching for purchase on the slippery rocks beneath her, but the creature held fast, its vice-like grip tightening around her windpipe.

All at once, the reality of her situation sunk in: she was alone, with the only people who would be able to help her scattered into the night. Her only weapon was gone, likely taken downstream with the current. She was wholly outmatched, her body spent and her mind a muddled mess as she struggled to breath beneath the monster’s grasp. She was going to die here, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

Just as the edges of her vision began to fade into darkness, she heard it. A voice calling out her name.

“Yaz! No! YAZ!”

It was the most frightening noise she’d ever heard in her life. The voice, one that was usually so full of hope and light, was a mixture of terror and anguish. She never knew the Doctor could be capable of such a sound, and it chilled her right down to her soul. She wanted to answer, to call to the Doctor one last time, but she had neither the energy nor the oxygen. The darkness had expanded, almost entirely enveloping her and she was falling fast.  
  


Down.

Down..

Down…

* * *

Somewhere above her, she could hear a muffled buzzing. Every few seconds, it would travel closer before moving away again. It was rhythmic, soothing almost. It gave her something to focus on. As the noise continued, ever so slowly Yaz became more aware of herself; a soft bed beneath her, arms and legs feeling like bags of sand, the ache in her throat and chest. What had happened? Brief snapshots flashed through her mind; darkness, a forest, a stream. She’d been running. Why had she been running? She remained suspended, her mind shrouded in fog, the gentle buzzing methodically traveling back and forth, until a singular image broke through her haze. Soulless eyes, a shambling body, scabbed hands clutching at her neck as it squeezed the life from her lungs. Her eyes flew open, vision clouded in a conglomeration of blurred shapes and colors. She began to gasp for air, her body twitching violently against the memory.

Suddenly, a pair of hands gripped her shoulders, trying to steady her, and a surge of panic whipped through Yaz’s body like wildfire. She moved without seeing, lurching up from the bed and fell hard to the floor. She scrambled away from the mass of shapes in front of her until she felt her back hit a wall. Cornered and confused, Yaz arched her body in defense, looking around wildly for an exit until a pair of worried green eyes, followed by a mess of blonde hair, swam into her focusing eyeline.

“Yaz, shh, it’s okay,” the Doctor soothed gently, her voice colored with concern. “It’s just us, you’re safe, we’re back in the TARDIS.”

Yaz’s eyes darted around rapidly, taking in the surroundings of the med bay, before eventually settling over the Doctor’s shoulder onto the sharpening forms of Graham and Ryan by the bed she had previously been occupying, their faces a mixture of shock and alarm. Her breathing was heavy, and she shrank back further into the wall. Rationally, she knew where she was, who she was with; however, the images of her brush with death were still flashing through her memory, distorting her perception of reality. Increasingly aware of Yaz’s continued distress, the Doctor turned slowly toward the other two companions who were still watching their friend with apprehension.

“Right, you lot,” she addressed them quietly. “You need to clear out. There’s far too many people in here and she’s already had enough trauma without feelin’ like a circus attraction.”

“You sure, Doc?” Graham asked, apprehensive. “Don’t want anyone to get hurt, now.”

The Doctor smiled reassuringly. “I’ve handled worse, trust me. I’ll come let you know when she’s calm and gettin’ some proper rest.”

The two men left with one last nervous glance toward Yaz. Turning back toward the disoriented young woman, the Doctor carefully held out her hands. “Yaz,” she said, keeping her voice quiet. “I know you’re feelin’ proper confused right now, but it’ll be much more comfortable if we get you off of this hard floor and back into bed, yeah?”

Yaz stared at the other woman for several moments, psycho warring with sanity within her brain before the latter finally won out and she reached forward with shaking fingers. The Doctor slowly pulled her up and guided her back to the bed, up into a seated position with the pillow tucked comfortably against her shoulders. As the Doctor busied herself with something at the nearest med station, Yaz tried to piece together what was real and what was fiction, the images of the Draugnar still fresh in her mind. 

“Wha—” she rasped, feeling like she had swallowed sandpaper. “Wh-what h-happend?” She doubled over as a coughing fit shook through her, scraping painfully up her throat. She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and looked up to find the Doctor holding a cup of steaming green liquid.

“Here,” the Doctor offered. “Lakris tea. This will help your throat. Won’t heal it entirely, but should make speakin’ less painful.” Yaz took the sweet-smelling liquid, grateful for something to hold in her hands to steady the shaking. She took a small sip, tasting licorice with a hint of lemon, and felt the effects instantaneously. She sighed quietly in relief.

Grateful that Yaz was starting to seem more like herself, the Doctor pulled her sonic out. “You mind if I finish my scannin’?” she asked. “You woke up in the middle of it.” Yaz shook her head, taking another sip of medicine.

They were silent for a while, the Doctor scanning up and down Yaz’s body, stopping every now and then to check the readings, while Yaz drank her tea, fuzzy memories still flashing through her head. The only sounds around them were the beeping of a pulse monitor behind the bed and the buzzing of the Doctor’s sonic.

“The Draugnar had caught up to you,” the Doctor spoke suddenly, when she had finished, startling Yaz from her tortured thoughts. “It wasn’t your fault, you did the right thing by jumpin’ into the creek. It musta been waitin’ for you to expose yourself again.” She turned off her sonic and sat down heavily in the chair by the bed. “I thought we were too late,” she whispered, almost to herself.

Slowly the snapshots she’d been experiencing began for form a full picture in Yaz’s mind. The Draugnar slamming her to the ground, dragging her back into the water, it’s putrid breath in her face and scaly hands around her neck. She felt her breath hitch, the image of the monster staring back at her every time she closed her eyes. She reached down and pulled the front of her shirt up, exposing a crisscrossing pattern of cuts and scrapes from the jagged river bed. The bile rose up in the back of her throat, but she shoved it back down, willing herself to remain calm even as she felt herself begin to sink back into her own panic. 

“Nothin’ seems to be wrong besides the superficial wounds and the bruised windpipe,” the Doctor spoke again, voice still quiet, not able to look at Yaz as she spoke. “You’re welcome to stay here and rest until you feel a bit more yourself again, if you’d like.”

Yaz squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “I think,” she began, keeping her voice measured. The Doctor looked up, guilt shining in her eyes. It tore at Yaz’s heart. “I think I just want to go back to my own room for a while. Try to sleep all this off.” She felt the anxiety starting to take hold, clawing its way up to the surface. She needed to get out, to get as far away as possible before she completely fell to pieces in front of the Doctor. She set her empty cup on the table by the bed and swung her legs to the floor. 

“Do you want any company?” the Doctor asked, so much like she had that day at her family’s flat, the same look of concern coloring her eyes. It was almost too much for Yaz to bear and she turned away, moving toward the exit as the Doctor stood up to follow.

“No, Doctor, I’ll be fine,” she responded flatly, desperate to get out of the room as soon as possible. She reached the door to the med day, gripping the handle with whitened knuckles as she felt her façade begin to slip with every passing second.

“Y’sure, ‘cause it’s really not—”

I said no!” Yaz interrupted, her voice much harsher than she had intended. Ashamed of herself, and feeling the panic cresting within her, she fled the room, leaving a confused and hurt Doctor behind her.


	2. Scars From Battles Nobody Won

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos this story has received so far, I really appreciate it and all of you!
> 
> I'm @pandora-spockz over on Tumblr, if you'd like to come yell at me (or just say hello).

The Doctor was good at fixing things. Really good. Exceptional, one might even say. She could recalibrate the interdimensional control sensors in the TARDIS with her eyes closed and still find time to upgrade the telepathic circuits before dinner. She could build an entirely new sonic with little more than some melted down spoons and a blowtorch. There wasn’t anything that was broken that she couldn’t eventually put back together again.

Anything but this.

It’d been nearly a week since Yaz had almost—well, the Doctor tried best not to think about what might have been and was simply grateful that it wasn’t. The problem was that she couldn’t get that night out of her head; the sight of Yaz, her wonderful Yaz, motionless in that monster’s grasp, the hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach at the thought that they may not have reached her in time, the pain in her hearts when Yaz had snapped at her as she ran from the med bay. It played on a constant, agonizing loop in her mind, but it was the young woman herself that had the Doctor worried the most.

Yaz hadn’t quite been herself since the attack. Of course the Doctor didn’t expect her to bounce back completely unaffected, but this was…different. It was almost like Yaz was trying too hard to seem okay; unusually chipper, waving away any of their worries or questions for her well-being, ready to jump into a new adventure at any moment. On the surface, perhaps it seemed like she had brushed off the incident like a minor inconvenience, especially to Graham and Ryan, who seemed more than willing to take Yaz at her word. The Doctor knew better, though. She was intimately familiar with traumatic experiences, with shoving her feelings so deep down inside until they had fused into her soul and became a part of her very being. She knew what Yaz was going through, that she was avoiding her real feelings so that she wouldn’t have to talk or think about what had happened, but the Doctor could see the cracks and the chips in the mask that she wore for the three of them every day; the far off look in her tired eyes, the way she flinched at sudden movements, the restlessness of her hands. It reminded her so much of Clara, flooding her mind with memories of the feisty young woman and all she’d sacrificed, and she knew that she could not allow Yaz to suffer the same fate; she absolutely had to fix this. The problem was that she didn’t know how.

She was working on the fuel lines with the hope that keeping her mind focused on something else might result in some sort of epiphany, when she heard the door of the TARDIS open, followed by a familiar voice.

“Doctor?” Yaz called, able to hear the Time Lord tinkering around somewhere but couldn’t see her.

Putting on what she hoped was an easy grin, the Doctor popped her head up from the spot in the open floor she’d been working in and lifted her goggles to the top of her head. “Hey, Yaz!” she greeted, perhaps a bit too cheerfully. “What’s got you back so early? Thought you’d want to spend a bit more time at home?”

Yaz shrugged. “Everyone’s out. Mum and dad at work and Sonya must be with friends,” she explained. “Figured I might as well come back here than hang around an empty flat all day.” 

The Doctor observed her quietly. Though Yaz was freshly showered and sporting new clothing, she still noticed the little tells of her companion’s weakened mental condition: hunched shoulders, dark circles beneath her eyes from lack of sleep, and the way she anxiously twisted at the hem of her shirt. It made her hearts ache, to know that her friend was hurting but would not seek the help that she so desperately needed. That no matter how much she suffered, Yaz would not burden the Doctor with her pain. That didn’t mean she couldn’t try.

“Yaz—” the Doctor began, but was cut short by the sound of the TARDIS door swinging open again.

“Hey, Doc,” Graham greeted, Ryan trailing in behind him. “Oh, Yaz, thought you were off to tea with your family today.”

“They were all out,” Yaz mumbled, fidgeting with the edge of her jacket. “Figured I’d just come back here instead of sitting around.”

“Ah, well cheers then,” Graham replied, giving her a subtle once over but saying nothing more. The Doctor watched her regretfully, wishing the boys had been just a few minutes later so that she could tried to get through to Yaz privately. She knew there was no hope now with the other two hovering nearby. She’d just have to try again later, perhaps when Ryan and Graham had slipped off into the TARDIS she could feign some sort of repair that required an extra set of hands and get Yaz to hang back with her.

“Oi, Doc,” Ryan called, interrupting the Doctor’s thoughts. “I was wondering, can we take a break from saving the day, just this once? I think we could all do with a vacation or something.” 

The Doctor smiled and slipped her goggles off her head. “Brilliant idea, ten points for Ryan! Where should we go? There’s a lovely little planet over in the Musidarp system. Always summer because of the alternating twin suns. Golden beaches with silver oceans, perfectly safe for humans of course. Oh, and they grow this rare fruit that tastes different every time you eat it. One time, I—”

Suddenly, the TARDIS let out a shrill whine, the monitors over the controls flashing a message in some alien language that on the Doctor seemed to understand. She moved toward the display, their previous conversation completely forgotten as her face scrunched up in concentration.

“Sorry, boys,” the Doctor called out, reading the screen in front of her. “I’m afraid that beach trip’s gonna have to wait one more day. Distress signal comin’ out of the Volsung system, trouble on the planet Villskap.

“Villskap?” Yaz asked.

“Yep,” the Doctor nodded, scrolling through the information on the monitor. “Nasty place, that. Similar to your ancient Scandinavia, except their weaponry is much more high tech. Energy swords, ion guns, the usual.”

“Yeah, typical everyday stuff.” Ryan deadpanned with a slight roll of his eyes.

“The tribes have been havin’ it out for centuries,” the Doctor continued without missing a beat. “Fightin’ over land and resources. But it looks like something else has been siphoning off the natural mineral deposits at an alarming rate, so—” 

“So,” Graham interrupted with a knowing smirk. “We’re gonna go pay a visit to some space Vikings and see if we can figure out what’s going on.”

“Exactly,” the Doctor grinned, that adventurous glint in her eye. “Hand on, gang, this one’s gonna be a bit bumpy.

The three companions exchanged amused glances and grabbed onto the railing. Ryan and Graham were chuckling over what the Doctor could possibly consider a smooth ride while Yaz watched the blonde bounce around the controls in her usual fashion. She felt the now-familiar sensation of dread rise in her chest, uncertainty over what kind of monsters might be waiting for them on the planet of Villskap. Her grip on the rail tightened, the skin of her knuckles growing pale as they hurtled toward their latest adventure.

* * *

The Doctor was angry. No, retract that. She was _furious_.

She hadn’t said a word since the team had returned to the TARDIS, and she was currently slamming buttons and pulling levers on the console with far more force than necessary. The other three watched her warily as they tried to catch their breath, holding on to the railing as the familiar turbulence of traveling through time and space started to shake the floor beneath their feet. When the Doctor gave one of the peddles a particularly violent kick, the TARDIS gave a low hum of disapproval, causing her to glare up at the crystalline structure at the console’s center.

“Don’t you start,” she warned in a low voice. Another hum, this one a bit more forceful, responded, but the Doctor ignored it. Pushing a few more buttons, she gave a final spin to the suspended hourglass and pulled up on the engine lever. Within moments the turbulence ceased and the control room fell silent. The Doctor leaned over the console, her hands holding tight to the railing with a white-knuckled grip, eyes staring resolutely at the floor. Nobody said a word, hardly breathing, as they waited for the Time Lord to collect herself. 

“Well,” she muttered after a time, her voice as hard as steel. “I’d say that didn’t go exactly to plan, did it?”

“Doctor...” Yaz began timidly, knowing that her actions had been the cause of everything. However, she pulled up short when the Doctor’s head shot up, her eyes flashing in anger, effectively silencing the younger woman as she held her gaze.

The moment was tense, energy crackling around them as the other two companions began to fidget uncomfortably. Ryan was trying to wipe the mud from his jeans where he had fallen a few times on their way back to the ship while Graham pulled burrs from his clothes and hair, shallow scratches along his face and neck. Yasmin had remained relatively unscathed in the chase, save for a rip in her jacket, but now she would’ve preferred to have been beaten bloody compared to the look of cold fury the Doctor was giving her.

“Ryan, Graham,” the Doctor addressed the boys, keeping her gaze on Yaz. “Go get cleaned up and get some proper rest. Yaz and I need to talk.”

Yaz gulped, physically gulped, as she watched the other two shuffle toward the corridor leading out of the control room, Graham giving her arm a comforting squeeze on his way past. Just as they had reached the door, the Doctor called them back a bit more gently. “I’m glad you’re both alright,” she said, sincerity in her voice. “You were brilliant today.” With a small nod from each of them, the boys bid the Doctor goodnight and disappeared down the hallway. Now it was just the two of them and the deafening silence in between. Yaz stood still, hardly daring to breathe, as the Doctor began to pace with her hands on her hips. She followed the same slow path, back and forth then back again until Yaz thought she was going to be sick. Finally, she slowed and then stopped altogether, standing in profile with her face hidden by her hair.

“Yasmin Khan,” the Doctor whispered. Yaz would’ve preferred her to be yelling. “What in the name of Gallifrey were you thinking?”

“I was just trying to help,” Yaz spoke meekly, eyes staring at the floor. The Doctor shook her head with a scoff and resumed her pacing around the control room.

“Help?!” she exclaimed, impatience and agitation lacing her voice. “Exactly how did you think chargin’ at the Foragers with little more than an ion scanner could possibly help?”

“I was trying to distract them,” Yaz insisted, feeling her own temper rise in indignation. “Just long enough for you to figure out some sort of plan.”

“I already had a plan!” The Doctor yelled, slamming her hand down on the console and earning a sharp hum of reproach. “One that didn’t include you almost gettin’ yourself or any of the rest of us killed!”

“One that you wouldn’t have even had time to pull off if I hadn’t kept the Foragers preoccupied!” Yaz countered, her cheeks coloring in anger.

They stared each other down for a long moment, opposing sides of an unwinnable war. The tension that had been building between them over the last several days had finally reached its breaking point, seeping into every crack and corner of the room until it was suffocating them. They couldn’t go on like this. Shoulders sagging, the Doctor broke eye contact first and let out a long sigh. There was no more avoiding what had happened, had been happening, since Yaz’s attack, and if that meant having it out right in the middle of the control room, then so be it.

“Yaz, what is this all about? Really?” The Doctor sighed, rubbing her eyes wearily before looking back up at the other woman.

“What d’you mean?” Yaz asked, a trace of anxiety in her voice. The Doctor shook her head. She wasn’t going to let Yaz avoid this conversation. It was long overdue and it was going to happen, whether her young companion wanted it to or not.

“You haven’t been right ever since you—ever since that…night,” she hesitated before continuing. “You’ve been more reckless, leaping without bothering to look. It’s like you go searching for danger. The boys are worried about you, Yaz. _I’m_ worried about you.”

Yaz stared at her for several seconds, and the Doctor could see the shadows of numerous different emotions flashing through her eyes as the she tried to come up with a response; some kind of excuse or way to brush off the Time Lord’s concerns. The Doctor waited patiently, the worry in her eyes nearly too much for Yaz to bear. She had to turn away, eyes pricking with tears, before she could respond.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” she muttered shortly, turning toward the same corridor that the boys had disappeared down minutes earlier, determined to escape this conversation as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, the Doctor had reached her limit with Yaz’s excuses and avoidance.

“Yasmin!” The Doctor warned, moving quickly to follow, her hand reaching for Yaz’s shoulder before she could make it out of the room. It was the spark that lit the fuse.

“I said I’m fine, Doctor!” Yaz shouted suddenly, her arm whipping out from her body and colliding with the Time Lord. The Doctor was caught off guard when Yaz’s open palm made contact with her collarbone, shoving her backwards as she lost her balance and went sprawling to the floor.

There was a moment when time seemed to stand still, the two women staring at each other, both in shock of what had just happened. Slowly, the Doctor stood up, rubbing at her clavicle as Yaz struggled to find her voice. She opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to force herself to speak, as the Doctor watched her with an ever-growing air of hurt. Eventually, she was able to form a single word.

“Doctor,” she croaked, the horror of what she’d just done lacing her voice. She wasn’t sure what she would have said next, how she could have possibly begun to apologize, but she was never able to get that far. 

“Yasmin,” the Doctor interrupted, her voice flat and emotionless as she gazed at the girl with an unreadable expression. “I have been patient, and I have tried to help you, but you have refused every single time any of us have reached out to you. And now your refusal to address what happened to you, what is still happening to you, has put everyone here at risk.” She paused for a moment to take a breath and let her words sink in. She could see the panic forming in Yaz’s eyes, and as much as she did not want to continue, the Doctor knew she had no choice.

“If I can’t trust you to follow instructions, or to tell me the truth when something is very clearly wrong, then I can’t have you onboard the TARDIS,” she continued quietly, her eyes never wavering from the other woman. “I have a duty of care to my passengers, a responsibility to keep them safe, and I can’t have you recklessly endangering the lives of everyone here because you think you have something to prove. I cannot have a liability like that on this ship.” 

Yaz reeled back as if she’d been slapped. Tears began to collect at the corners of her eyes, welling up until her vision was a blur of lights and colors. The ever-present pool of anxiety in her chest began to bubble and churn until she felt it rise up into roiling waves, crashing through her body with violent force. She felt her breath coming in short bursts as she stumbled backward, her hands searching wildly for any kind of purchase before landing on the honeycomb texture of the doorframe. She gasped at the sudden contact and turned away as the first tears began to fall down her cheeks, using the wall to guide her as she fled into the winding corridors of the TARDIS.

The Doctor watched her go, every cell of her body screaming at her to follow, to tell Yaz that she didn’t mean it and that everything would be okay. But her feet wouldn’t cooperate, holding her in place as she felt the reality of what had just happened settle in her chest. This wasn’t Yaz, she knew that, but she’d let her temper get the better of her. She’d let the frustration and the worry of the last week blind her better judgment. And now she’d made her friend, her wonderful Yaz, believe that she didn’t want her. Her stomach twisted with guilt as she leaned heavily against the console.

“What have I done?” she whispered, her own tears dripping down onto the controls. The TARDIS gave a low hum of sympathy, her lights dimming down to a glow as the Doctor sank to the floor and cradled her head in her hands.


	3. Always Darkest Before the Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in this chapter, things got a bit busy with the holidays. Thank you for all the lovely feedback I've gotten on this story, all your comments and kudos really mean a lot to me. I hope you all have a very happy new year!
> 
> I'm @pandora-spockz on tumblr if you'd like to come by and say hello.

Tears obscuring her vision, Yaz stumbled blindly through the TARDIS, hand fumbling clumsily along the wall as she used it to guide her way. Left, right, two more lefts, another right. Eventually she lost count of the number of turns she had made, not knowing or caring where she was going, only trying to escape what was behind her.

What had she done?  
Oh god, what had she done?

She doesn’t remember the action, doesn’t remember anything but a moment of white-hot panic surging through her. She doesn’t remember lashing her arm out at the sudden grip on her shoulder, only the contact of their skin as she’d sent the Doctor crashing to the floor with a single push. She felt bile rising in the back of her throat, remembering the low, steady tone of the Doctor’s voice as she’d banished her from the only place that had ever truly felt like home. From the one person she felt finally understood her. Understood her want—her _need_ —for more.

 _Imagine thinking someone like the Doctor could ever really care about you_ , a voice in her head taunted. _Imagine thinking you actually mattered._

She didn’t mean it, Yaz told herself desperately, trying to counter the invasive thoughts. She couldn’t have, not after everything over their time together. Her mind flashed back to various memories; this mad, mysterious woman falling through the roof of a train and insisting they were friends, using her entire body to shield Yaz from the Pting, the look they had shared before she was ducked by the witch hunters. So many moments, big and small, shared with the hyperactive, blonde alien that had burrowed her way into Yaz’s heart. Surely they had all meant something to the Doctor, too; that she hadn’t imagined the connection between them.

 _She doesn’t want you_ , _stupid girl,_ the voice hissed maliciously. _She said so herself. Said it would be better if you weren’t here at all._

Yaz faltered, her feet stuttering as she collapsed against the wall, the weight of the world dragging her down to her knees. This was all her fault. All her stupid, stubborn fault. She should have asked for help sooner, when the nightmares had crept in and kept her awake at all hours of the night. She should have asked when she saw the others looking at her with careful eyes, asking her if she needed anything. She should have asked today, when the Doctor had tried to reach her, had given her a chance to admit that she was not as okay as she tried to seem. But it was too late. She’d spoiled the best thing that had ever—would ever happen to her.

The thought of leaving this all behind, leaving her behind, sent a cold dread through Yaz. She felt her heart begin to beat violently against her ribs, creating an erratic rhythm that shook her entire body. She brought her trembling fingers to her chest, clawing at the collar of her shirt as she felt it tighten like a noose around her neck. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t control the tears that were still carving tracks down her cheeks. She felt overwhelmed, as if she were suffocating beneath the burden of her grief.

Darkness, the very same darkness that haunted her nightmares, began to creep in at the corners of her vision, and Yaz felt terror grip her heart. Hauling herself back to her feet, she continued along the dimly lit corridor, the walls beginning to narrow around her as she turned yet another corner and ran headlong into a door. Heavy, wooden, and engraved with a language she did not understand, Yaz yanked it open and fell into what appeared to be a small study with a number of foreign objects scattered about. A fire burned in the grate at the far end of the room, the crackling of the wood mingling in with the ticking of the absurd amount of clocks lining the walls. Drawn toward it’s warmth, Yaz staggered forward, gripping on to every available surface her hands landed on for support. She fell in front of the dancing flames, her vision growing dimmer as the shadows continued to press in around her. She held her shaking hands out in front of the dim firelight, feeling the stains of what she had done imprinted upon her skin, the look of shock and hurt in the Doctor’s eyes seared into her memory.

Her breathing came in short bursts, heart racing as tears of shame continued to spill out onto her cheeks before dripping down to the floor. Yaz felt her world tilt and she was suddenly on her back, her body giving out beneath the weight of her guilt. She turned her head to stare into the fire, her tears now falling across the bridge of her nose, as the blur of orange and red in front of her began to fade until she once again experienced the sensation of fall into nothingness. 

* * *

“Doc? Everything alright?”

The Doctor’s head shot up at the sound of the voice, the stiffness of her neck from being bent over in the same position for too long causing her to wince. Rubbing at the soreness, she looked around until her eyes eventually settled on Graham standing in the doorway with a cup of tea in his hand.

“Graham!” the Doctor started, popping up from her vigil on the floor and plastering on what she hoped was a believable grin. “Yeah, course, always alright me. Just havin’ a short rest from the last trip.”

Graham gazed at her for a moment, disbelief clear in his eyes, but he said nothing and looked around the control room. “Yaz go off to bed?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah,” the Doctor replied, turning away to fiddle with the console. “Yeah I ‘spect so.”

Graham noticed the hesitation in her voice, that it was a mite higher than usual which only happened when something wasn’t quite right. He watched her mess with the controls, pulling something up on the screens that he couldn’t quite decipher, but the look on her face told him it wasn’t necessarily good.

“I can’t find her,” he heard the Doctor murmur. “Where has she gone? Why aren’t you showing me?”

“Where’s who gone?” Graham asked, stepping closer to the console. The Doctor jumped at the sound of his voice, either forgetting he was there or assuming that he had gone back to bed.

“Graham,” she gasped, turning back around. “Sorry, didn’t know you were still there. S’nothing, the TARDIS is just being a bit difficult at the moment.” A hum of indignation sounded behind her, but she ignored it.

Graham knew she was lying. The Doc was never the best at concealing her emotions and right now he could see a hint of panic in her eyes as they kept darting up to the monitor, clearly searching for something.

“Doc, what’s going on?” he pressed. “I ain’t seen you this rattled since Tsuranga and you looked a right mess that trip.”

“Oi, you take a sonic bomb blast so soon after regenerating,” she protested. “Bet you’d look a bit rough yourself.”

“Doc…” Graham interrupted her, not willing to let her avoid the question. The Doctor let out a heavy sigh and hung her head.

“It’s Yaz,” she admitted. “We had a bit of a…disagreement after I sent you two off and she ran out. And now I can’t find her.”

“Can’t find her?” Graham asked. “What do you mean?”

“Just what I said,” the Doctor explained, pointing up at the screen. “She’s not showing up on any of the sensory maps of the TARDIS. It’s like she’s just disappeared.”

“Disappeared?!” Graham repeated in alarm.

“Keep your head on, Graham,” she huffed impatiently. “She hasn’t literally vanished into thin air. The TARDIS just won’t show me where she is.” She turned back toward the crystalline column, hands planted firmly on her hips. “You’re bein’ a right pain, you know, and not even bothering to explain why.” The TARDIS responded with drawn out whine and several flashes of light from the controls. “Oh, feeling all high and mighty are we? Well, just see if I update your energy accelerator when this is all over.” A hostile whirring filled the control room. “Ah, those are some big words comin’ from—”

“Doc, hate to interrupt,” Graham cut in. “But what about Yaz?”

The Doctor turned back toward him, her retort still hanging from her lips. “Right,” she conceded, shaking her head. “More important things to deal with right now.” She turned back toward the console, pointing a threatening finger up at the structure. “This is not over,” she warned. 

“Alright,” Graham continued to steer the Doctor back toward the matter at hand. “So Yaz is definitely still in the TARDIS. How do we go about finding her?”

The Doctor thought for a moment, her eyes darting around the room as she formulated a plan. “Right, well, it’s a big place, but I’m guessin’ she wouldn’t wander off somewhere she wasn’t familiar with, so why don’t we—"

She cut off at the sound of feet padding down the hallway toward them. The Doctor hoped against hope that it was Yaz, but knew it was wishful thinking after the argument they’d just had, which meant it could only be one other person. She and Graham both turned toward the doorway as Ryan appeared in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He’d clearly just woken up, rubbing at his eyes as the lights of the control room hit him full force. “Was’ going on? Thought everyone was going to bed.” He yawned as he stumbled toward the others.

“Yaz is missing,” Graham responded.

“Wait, she’s what?” Ryan replied, now wide awake and looking between Graham and the Doctor in a panic. “How can she be missing?”

“She is not missing,” the Doctor insisted, giving Graham a stern glare. “I just don’t know where she is. No, wait, that came out wrong. She’s somewhere in the TARDIS, definitely, but she sort of ran off and now someone is bein’ difficult by refusing to say where.” She glared up at the crystalline column at the center of the control panel and was rewarded with a series of hums that even the boys recognized as less than friendly.

“But what do you mean that she ran off?” Ryan asked, eyes narrowing in confusion.

The Doctor turned away from the TARDIS and lowered her eyes to the floor, shifting her weight from one foot to another guilty. “I may have been a bit harsh with her after you two went off to bed,” she admitted quietly.

“Seems like it might have been more than a bit, Doc, if she’s disappeared,” Graham insisted, giving her that grandfatherly look that always made her feel like a child being chastised.

“Yeah, what happened?” Ryan chimed in. “You guys have it out about something?”

The Doctor sighed heavily and turned away from them, too ashamed to look either in the eye. Having to relive her encounter with Yaz, the cruel words, the sensation of whiplash as she’d been shoved to the floor; she’d rather be back in the forests on Villskap. She wasn’t sure where to begin, though she reckoned it was best to go back to when this had all started, when she’d noticed Yaz starting to slip away from them. Maybe the rest of the story wouldn’t seem so awful if she laid a well-meaning foundation.

“Yaz hasn’t been herself in a while,” the Doctor murmured. “You’ve both seen it too, right?” She looked up at the others, who nodded in confirmation but remained silent. “She’s been acting carelessly, no concern for her own safety. It’s like she’s been tryin’ to prove to herself that she’s not afraid of anything ever since the Draugnar attacked her.”

“She ain’t been sleeping much, either,” Ryan chimed in. “I hear her all the time, leaving her room in the middle of the night and not turning back up ‘til morning.”

“And have you noticed?” Graham added. “She fidgets a lot with her clothes, can’t keep her hands still.”

“Yeah,” Ryan confirmed. “But what’s any of this got to do with her disappearing?” The two men turned to look at the Doctor, who was actively looking at anything but them. “Doctor?”

“I just wanted to help her,” the Doctor whispered, feeling their eyes on her as she spoke. “I tried to get her talk to me, tell me what’s going on, but she just froze me out again.” She paused, bracing herself. “I tried to keep her from running away and she lashed out. Panicked and shoved me to the ground.” She heard both of the men gasp, but still couldn’t look up at them. She opened her mouth to continue, but no words would come so she shut it again.

“What happened then, Doc?” Graham prodded gently.

The Doctor squeezed her eyes closed and took a shuddering breath. “I lost my temper,” she admitted, shaking her head. “Told her that she was puttin’ everyone here at risk and if I can’t trust her to listen to directions, if she won’t accept the help we’ve all been trying to give her…I can’t have her on the TARDIS.”

“You what?!” Ryan shouted. 

“Doc, that’s not fair,” Graham protested. “We all know that Yaz ain’t quite right at the moment.”

“I know, Graham, I know!” the Doctor insisted, leaning over the console. “I didn’t mean it, I just…I’m scared. I’m scared we’re losing her, that she’s slipping away, and I don’t know how to get her back.” She paused, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And now I’ve gone and pushed her away myself,” she added quietly. 

“Hey, Doctor, don’t worry,” Ryan said, stepping over in front of her and putting his hands on her shoulders. “We’ll sort it out. We always do, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Graham added, joining them. “Hasn’t been a tight spot we ain’t gotten out of yet. We’ll find her and patch it up over a nice cuppa.”

The Doctor looked up at the pair of them, encouragement in their eyes, and grinned. “My boys,” she said softly, full of affection as she reached out to grip their arms. “You’re right, we can fix this. We just have to find her somehow.” The Doctor glanced back up at the TARDIS monitors, still seeing nothing on the sensory maps.

“Why don’t we split up?” Ryan suggested. “Probably have more luck that way.”

The Doctor nodded. “You’re right,” she replied, glaring at up at the center column through narrowed eyes. “And don’t you be interferin’,” she addressed the TARDIS. “If you’re not going to help at least don’t hinder.” The TARDIS gave off a string of beeps, but the Doctor didn’t respond, just shook her head and scowled.

“Right,” she continued, turning back to the boys. “Graham, why don’t you take the west corridors, Ryan head east, and I’ll go north.” She reached into a compartment in the console and extracted three sleek instruments the size and shape of a pen. “Communicators,” she explained. “Just press the button on the side and we’ll be able to hear you. If you find her, let the other two know where and we’ll come running. Okay?” 

The other two nodded and the Doctor gave them one of her signature grins, trying to mask her worry. “Let’s get a shift on then.”

* * *

Yaz wasn’t in her room, the kitchen, or the library. With her three most frequent haunts turning up zero results, the Doctor was at a loss for where her friend might be. She never hung out in the game room much, only sometimes to watch Ryan play one of his nonsensical video games, which he obviously wasn’t doing now. The pool as well was out, as Yaz had not been too keen on water since the Draugnar had very nearly drowned her in that river. She kept searching; the wardrobe, the observatory, the gardens, the sun room, and on and on. Every room she checked turned up empty. Eventually, the Doctor stopped along one of the corridors and wearily rested her forehead against the wall. It was as if the girl had simply disappeared, and, given the state she’d been in when she had fled from the control room, the Doctor’s worry was gradually increasing. Wracking her brain, trying to think of where Yaz could possibly have gone, the Doctor’s thoughts were interrupted by a low hum of disapproval from the TARDIS.

“Yes, I’m very well aware of that, thank you very much,” the Doctor replied, glaring up at the ceiling as she began to pace anxiously. Another terse hum filled the hallway. “Of course I was an idiot, do you really think I don’t bloody well know that?” the Doctor practically shouted in frustration. The TARDIS did not respond immediately, observing her thief quietly, contemplatively. She knew exactly where the young human was, could have led the Doctor right to her if she felt generous enough, but she wanted to let the lesson sink in first. She wanted to make sure the Time Lord realized just how carelessly she had acted with someone she claimed meant so much to her. After a long stretch of silence, in which the Doctor had ceased her pacing and leaned up against the wall in defeat, the TARDIS took pity and hummed softly, her tone far less hostile than before.

“I know it was selfish of me,” the Doctor admitted, raking her fingers through her hair. “I just want to tell her how sorry I am, that I don’t want her to leave, that I’ll do whatever I can to help her. More than anything I want to make sure she’s alright.” A beat, then another hum from the TARDIS, and the Doctor’s eyes snapped back up to the ceiling.

“What, this whole time?” she asked in disbelief, her tone accusatory. “And you just let me run around in circles in a right panic?” The TARDIS gave a stern reply and the Doctor’s shoulders sagged heavily. “You’re right, I suppose,” she muttered. “But we’re still gonna have a few words about this later. Now tell me where she is…please?”

The TARDIS didn’t respond, but the Doctor watched as the light sensors at the base of the wall came to life down the corridor to her left, lighting a path to wherever Yaz had disappeared to deep in the bowels of the time machine. Following the trail, the Doctor tried to calm her racing hearts and think of what she could possibly say to Yaz when she found her. She walked for ages, following the lights down every twist and turn to wherever the TARDIS was guiding her. Eventually she realized where the corridors seemed to be leading, disbelief spreading through her that Yaz could have possibly wandered down this particular wing. So few had ever ventured this deep into the time machine, had ever been allowed to. However, with one final corner, the Doctor found herself facing the door of her drawing room, her name engraved in circular Gallifreyan on the darkly stained wood.

“You led her here didn’t you?” the Doctor breathed, staring intently at the door. “You knew this is the one place where only I would find her.” The TARDIS gave a vague hum, but the Doctor could still hear the tone of affection in her response colored with a bit of…was that worry?

“Cheeky girl,” she muttered, but gave the wall a light pat of affection all the same before growing somber once more. “I’ll fix this, I promise. I won’t let us lose her.”

A deep breath and the Doctor reached forward for the handle and pushed the door open. She was greeted by the sound of the numerous clocks ticking away, displaying the times for various planets and galaxies lightyears away. At first, nothing seemed amiss, everything just as she had left it; her Time Lord staff stood beside the door, the Ood translator she’d been tinkering with rested on the book case, the sonic blaster she’d been modifying lying on the mantle. Various objects and keepsakes from her travels cluttered the room haphazardly, but nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary until she walked deeper into the room and caught sight of a shoe sticking out from behind the coffee table. Rushing forward, her breath caught in her throat as she found Yaz in a heap in front of the fireplace, her skin far too pale. Dropping to the floor, the Doctor skimmed her hands over the other woman’s body, searching for any possible injuries. When she found none, her palm came up to cover Yaz’s forehead, finding her skin cold and clammy despite the fire burning in the grate.

“Yaz,” the Doctor whispered, gently lifting her companion’s body into a seated position so that her head was resting against the Time Lord’s chest. “Sweet Yaz, this is all my fault, I’m so sorry.” She wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders while she carded the fingers of her free hand through her long dark hair. The Doctor pressed a light kiss to the top of Yaz’s head as she rocked them gently back and forth, the ticking of the clocks around them echoing rhythmically in the silence.


	4. Don't Have To Keep It Quiet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your feedback on this story. All of your comments and kudos really mean a lot to me and I appreciate every one of you! Hope you enjoy this new chapter!
> 
> I'm @pandora-spockz on Tumblr, please come and say hello sometime!

The boys had come running, just as she knew they would. The TARDIS guided them to the study in minutes after she’d sent the distress message through her communicator. They didn’t ask questions or stop to consider this previously-unseen section of the time machine; simply, they helped lift Yaz from the floor, nestled securely in Ryan’s arms, and followed the Doctor back out into the corridor. She’d been quiet since they’d arrived; far quieter than Ryan and Graham were used to and it worried them. However, they followed her dutifully and without question as she led them back through the winding labyrinth of the TARDIS. When they swept right past the hallway that led toward the front of the ship, the two men shared a look of confusion before Ryan tentatively spoke up.

“Uh, Doc, where are we going? Ain’t we headed for the med bay?”

He saw the Doctor shake her head, but she did not look back at him. “Nope, not the med bay,” she answered, her voice subdued. “Lookin’ for something else, I’ll know it when I see it.”

She went silent again and they walked on for several more minutes. Ryan gazed down at Yaz sadly, noting the dried tears on her cheeks, and tightened his grip slightly. He was so concentrated on his best friend that he didn’t noticed that the Doctor had stopped, bumping into Graham with a start.

“Sorry, grandad,” he muttered, making sure he hadn’t jostled Yaz too much to wake her.

“S’alright, son,” Graham reassured him quietly with a pat on the arm. They both turned to face the Doctor, who was standing before a door neither of them had ever seen. It was a sleek charcoal color, smooth with no handle or any other means of entry. Instead, the Doctor stepped forward and pressed her hand against the metallic surface, muttering something in an alien language that the other two did not understand. It was musical in nature, almost like the chiming of bells in the wind. With a quiet _woosh_ , the door slid open and the Doctor stepped inside as the boys followed quickly behind her before it shut behind them once again. 

“Lay her down here, please, Ryan,” the Doctor pointed to a narrow bed in the center, the only piece of furniture in the plain, spacious room. Three crystalline columns, similar to those of the control room, formed a triangle around it, casting a golden light against the pristine white sheets. Ryan set her down gently and stepped back to allow the Doctor room to look Yaz over with her sonic. He turned away, him and Graham looking around for some kind of idea of where they were.

“What is this place?” Ryan asked.

“Zero Room,” the Doctor explained shortly. She finished scanning, finding nothing out of the ordinary, but didn’t take her eyes off of Yaz, reaching forward to brush the stray hair from her face. “Jettisoned the last one and I wasn’t sure if the TARDIS made to replace it when she redecorated. Seems she knew I might need it again.”

“Smells a bit funny,” Graham commented, sniffing a few times. “What is that? Is that…” another sniff. “Is that roses?” 

“Meant to have a calming effect, yeah,” the Doctor murmured, moving over to the nearest column and opening a small, hidden panel. She extracted a couple of wires attached to what looked like electrode pads and extended them over to where Yaz lay on the bed. She gently attached one to each of her temples while the boys watched on with curiosity.

“At the risk of sounding foolish,” Graham spoke up. “Why’ve we brought her here and not to the med bay? Pretty bare bones, innit?” He looked around the room again as if to illustrate his point. 

“The med bay doesn’t provide the kind of care that Yasmin needs right now,” the Doctor explained vaguely, pulling two more wires from the wall panel. The two men looked at each other and shrugged, a mixture of concern and confusion passing over each of their faces.

“What do you mean by that, Doctor?” Ryan asked.

“The Zero Room is…complex,” the Doctor tried to explain, gesturing around them. “It exists outside of the boundaries of time and space.” She held up her hand as Ryan opened his mouth to comment. “Don’t ask me to go into the details, we’ll be here for hours. Put as simply as I can, it’s basically a pocket universe within the universe.”

Ryan shut his mouth again and he and Graham nodded mutely, trying to follow the Doctor’s words as best they could.

“It uses bio-electrics as a means of healing,” the Doctor continued. “Normally, it’s used by a Time Lord to mend up if they’ve had a particularly difficult regeneration, but it can also counteract numerous other types of wounds.”

“And it works on humans, too?” Graham asked, looking down at Yaz. 

The Doctor nodded. “Has in the past, when I’ve needed it. Shouldn’t be any different now, but that’s not what we’re here for. Yasmin’s wounds aren’t physical, they’re psychological.” She returned to the electrodes in her hand, attaching a third wire beneath the collar of Yaz’s shirt, just over her heart, and the final one to the base of her skull. “The benefit of a Zero Room being cut off from the rest of the universe is that it’s cut off from all of its influences, too. Makes it ideal not just for physical healing, but mental and emotional, as well.”

“So what’s all that you’re attachin’ to Yaz then?” Ryan pointed at the wires. “Some kind of brain wave monitors or something?”

“Nope,” the Doctor walked back over to the panel and flipped a single switch. All at once, the lights emanating from the crystal columns dimmed, bathing them all in a soft, amber glow. “It’s the TARDIS.”

Ryan’s eyes grew almost comically wide. “Wait, what?” 

“Are you telling us that you’ve got Yaz plugged into the TARDIS?” Graham asked incredulously. 

“If it helps you understand it, then yes, that’s what I did,” the Doctor nodded, carefully turning a few knobs on the panel. The two men shared a look, silently agreeing that they didn’t need to know and it was best to let the Doctor do whatever it is she does.

“But if this place is its own universe, how can the TARDIS work here?” Ryan inquired. 

“Same place, different planes of existence,” the Doctor turned back toward them after she was satisfied with the control settings. “She can exist within both since they’re basically right on top of each other, using her telepathic circuits to connect with Yaz,” she pointed, indicating the wires, “while still keeping us floating blissfully through our larger universe.” 

The boys nodded, neither entirely sure they understood the science behind it, but trusting that the Doctor knew what she was doing. There was just one thing that still wasn’t entirely clear.

“We trust you, Doc, we do,” Graham assured her carefully. “But what good do you think it’s gonna do to have the TARDIS pokin’ around in Yaz’s head?”

The Doctor sighed heavily and turned back toward the bed, resting her hand against the young woman’s forearm. “She won’t talk to us,” she murmured. “But we’re all watching her fall apart before our own eyes. There’s something going on inside of her that’s snuffin’ out her light.” She paused for a moment, gathering herself. “The TARDIS likes her. She’s worried about her as much as we are. If Yaz won’t talk to any of us, maybe the TARDIS can get her to open up.” 

“You think Yaz’ll be alright with that?” Ryan questioned, worried that she might see it as too invasive or a break of her trust.

The Doctor shrugged half-heartedly. “I hope so. The old girl’s always been better with words than me, so I know she’ll be kind with Yaz.” She looked back over toward the boys. “If she gets upset, I’ll take the blame. My idea after all. You can even tell her you tried to talk me out of it if you’d like.”

Graham shook his head. “No, can’t let you do that Doc,” he objected. “No matter how Yaz reacts when she wakes up, we’ll support you. We all want what’s best for her, right?" 

“Right,” the Doctor replied softly. They stood there for a few moments in silence, each of them staring down at the young woman sadly and hoping that the TARDIS would be able to break down the walls they had been vainly banging against for the past week.

“So what do we do now?” Ryan asked quietly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

The Doctor exhaled softly, brushing the back of her hand down Yasmin’s cheek. “We let her rest,” she murmured, turning to motion the boys from the room. As she reached the door, she rested her palm gently against the wall. “Take care of her,” she whispered, receiving a low, reassuring hum.

After the door had sealed behind them, the Doctor led the way to the kitchen with her remaining two companions following silently in their wake. As Ryan and the Doctor sat down at the table, Graham made himself busy by preparing tea for the three of them. The Doctor was quiet, staring down at the grain of the wooden table, her brow furrowed in a mixture of a dozen different emotions. The two men watched her, exchanging knowing glances between them but saying nothing. After a few minutes, the kettle began to boil and Graham filled three ceramic mugs sitting on the table before taking a seat with the others. No one spoke as they sipped their tea, the Doctor still lost in her own thoughts, her two companions watching her carefully.

“So…Yaz,” Graham ventured gently, finally breaking the heavy silence. “You really care about her, don’t you, Doc?”

The Doctor looked up from her mug of tea, confused. “Of course I care about her. I care about all of you.”

“That’s not what I meant, Doc.”

She stared back and forth between the two of them, waiting for an explanation to something everyone in the room but her seemed to be privy to. After several seconds of silence, the Doctor looking at the two men expectantly, Ryan let out a huff of disbelief.

“You don’t know?” The Doctor simply shrugged her shoulders. “Gramps, she really don’t know.”

Graham shook his head, clearly amused by the Doctor’s obliviousness. “Nah, can’t be. Plain as day innit? I mean, no offense, but the two of you ain’t exactly subtle, Doc.”

“What’s that s’posed to mean?” the Doctor asked with a scrunch of her nose.

“You and Yaz.”

“What about me and Yaz?”

“You like her, Doc,” Ryan supplied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And she likes you, too.”

“Yes, I thought we’d established that,” the Doctor nodded, narrowing her eyes. “I like you all very much, you’re all brilliant.” 

“No, that’s—that’s not what we mean,” Graham shook his head. “It’s more than that.”

“More than friends,” Ryan added helpfully. The Doctor continued to stare at them, eyes flicking between their faces as she worked out the puzzle before her until a look of understanding dawned across her face.

“What? What are you two—oh. OH. No, that’s not—Me and Yaz, we’re just—” But the Doctor stopped suddenly, her gaze clouding over as she stared off into the distance again. The boys took this as their opportunity to slip from the room, leaving the Doctor to her thoughts that clearly needed sorting through.

“We’ll just be down in the sitting room, if you need us,” Graham called from the door, but received no indication from the Doctor that she had heard. Shrugging his shoulders, he left her be.

She sat there, motionless, for what seemed like hours. Her tea sat beside her, cold and long forgotten as she sifted through everything; every word, look, and touch between her and Yaz since the moment she’d crashed through the roof of the train in Sheffield. Of course she liked Yaz, she liked them all, but the young woman was special; there was a bond between them from the very beginning that the boys, bless them, just didn’t quite share in on. Only now, with Graham and Ryan’s gentle prodding, did she realize what the bond really meant to her. What Yasmin Khan really meant to her.

“Stupid Doctor,” she chastised quietly, shaking her head. “All this time, how did I not notice?”

The TARDIS hummed gently in a comforting tone. “I know,” the Doctor replied. “You always do.”

Another hum, a question this time. The Doctor chuckled thoughtfully. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I just might.”

* * *

Yasmin opened her eyes slowly and looked around. She was standing in the control room, the gentle hum of the crystal columns around her filling the otherwise empty space. She was alone; Ryan, Graham, and the Doctor nowhere in sight. How had she gotten here? She remembered the strange, cluttered room she’d stumbled upon, collapsing in front of the fire before finally losing herself to darkness. And yet, here she stood with no idea of how she had found herself back in the place where everything had gone so horribly wrong. Tears stung her eyes and her breath hitched at the memory. She stepped forward to lean against the control panel, bowing her head wearily.

_Hello, Yasmin._

Yaz’s head jerked back up at the greeting and she turned rapidly on the spot, completing a full rotation, but seeing nobody else in the room. She rounded the main console and still found herself alone, the voice seeming to come from nowhere. “Um…hello?” she called back tentatively.

 _Yasmin Khan,_ the words echoed warmly around her, high and lilting. _You clever girl, how wonderful to finally get to meet you properly._

“Meet me pro—who are you?” Yaz demanded, pacing around the room as she continued to search for the source of the voice. “How do you know my name? What’s going on? Where are the others?”

_Oh, questions, so many questions! I can certainly see why my thief likes you so much. She always did have a soft spot for the inquisitive ones._

“Your thief?” Yasmin questioned, growing more confused by the second.

 _Yes, my thief,_ the voice repeated before clarifying. _Of course, I’m sorry. You call her the Doctor We’ve been together so long, I’m afraid I forget now and then._

Yaz felt a stab of jealousy in her gut, but ignored it for the moment. She stopped her movements and glared around the room impatiently. “Who are you?” she demanded again, frustration seeping into her tone.

 _Darling girl, you already know who I am,_ the voice explained patiently. _After all, we’ve been on so many adventures together; so many grand adventures. That is, when my thief hasn’t misplaced me. I’m afraid this regeneration is quite the forgetful one, though much less grumpy than her last one used to be._

Yaz’s eyes grew wide as the voice continued to ramble. It couldn’t be. “Mis—misplaced you?”

_Yes, you remember; Desolation and that junk planet,_ _Seffilun 27. I do hope she doesn’t plan on making a habit of losing me. It’s rather insulting, honestly, though perhaps better than some of her past exploits. Did I mention she got stuck in 1969 once? The Weeping Angels nearly found their way in, can you imagine? Quite the mess, I must say._

“Wa—wait, hang on,” Yaz stuttered in shock, gripping tightly to the railing as she gazed up at the central column. “Are you saying that you—you’re—”

It’s not possible, she tried to reason with herself.

 _Of course it’s possible, Yasmin, you should know better by now,_ the voice reassured brightly. _The Doctor connected us through my telepathic circuits so we could have a little chat, just us girls._

Yaz blinked. “A—a chat? About what?” 

_About you,_ the TARDIS answered gently. _I’ve been watching you, Yasmin Khan, and we have so much to discuss, my dear._


	5. The Other Half of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey gang! Let me just say that this chapter was so much more difficult to write than I expected! I struggled with nailing down the TARDIS' voice and having her interact with Yaz, so I hope that it all came out okay. I originally thought about splitting this chapter into two when it started to get much longer than the others, but I think this works better. 
> 
> There will be one more chapter, which is going to be a short (for me anyway) epilogue, so keep your eye on this space in the future
> 
> No beta, so all mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy!

Yaz was dreaming. She absolutely had to be, because there was no other explanation for why she had found herself alone in the console room with the TARDIS talking to her as if they were old friends.

 _Well, I wouldn’t call us old friends, per say,_ the voice trilled in her ear. _But I’d like to think we’ve gotten to know each other quite well in our time together. Unless, of course, you meant it in the literal sense, in which case I must say only one of us fits the human definition of “old” and I’ll thank you not to ask for specifics._

Yaz sighed, feeling a headache building behind her eyes. “Can you please not read my mind, or—whatever it is that you’re doing?”

 _I am sorry Yasmin, but I’m afraid I can’t help it. You’re plugged into my telepathic circuits, which means I am attuned to every thought and emotion passing through your mind._ To her credit, Yaz could tell that the TARDIS was being sincere. _And you are not dreaming, my dear, at least not in the traditional sense._

“What do you mean?” Yaz asked, a mixture of curious and apprehensive a she gazed up at the crystal at the center of the control panel.

 _You are not physically awake and standing in the console room,_ The TARDIS explained. _Rather, your body is currently lying in my Zero Room while you sleep and heal. What you see is a manifestation that I’m projecting into your head to make you a bit more comfortable while we talk._

“So if I’m asleep, how are we talking exactly?”

_Your subconscious is always active, Yasmin, always alert and interacting with the world around you. By connecting with you through my circuits, I am able to communicate with you on an intuitive level, though your conscious mind is currently at rest.  
_

“But if this is all happening in my subconscious, will I even remember any of it?” Yaz wondered, feeling the headache start to grow as she struggled to grasp the science behind it all.

 _Oh, of course,_ the Tardis reassured her. _Dreams are merely wisps and shadows of long forgotten memories, whereas our interaction is much more corporeal and cerebral. You’ll have complete recollection of our time together when you wake up, I promise._

Yaz nodded, not entirely sure the TARDIS could see her, but knew she felt her emotions all the same. “So this was the Doctor’s idea, you said?”

_Yes, she thought you might be willing to talk to me. About what happened to you._

Yaz paled slightly at the words, eyes darting to the corridor for a moment before she realized that there was literally nowhere for her to run and hide. Not this time. “I keep telling her, I’m fine,” she muttered uneasily toward the floor.

 _Yes, so she has said,_ the TARDIS hummed gently. _Several times in fact._

Yaz’s eyes snapped back up to the crystalline column. “She’s talked to you about me? About what happened?”

 _Yes, many times,_ the voice confirmed cheerfully. _She talks of you often, Yasmin Khan. When she tinkers around with my systems, she has a tendency to ramble on about anything and everything. You are, by far, her favorite subject._

“Oh,” embarrassment flooded Yaz’s cheeks.

_Of course, she wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know, but I figured it would be rude to interrupt her. Besides, she seems to concentrate so much better when I let her go off on one of her tangents. It keeps that beautiful disaster’s mind clear from distractions._

Yaz noted the tone of affection in the TARDIS’ comment and smiled despite herself. She’d never fully understood the Doctor’s relationship with her time machine, but it was clear that the feelings, however it worked between them, were mutual.

 _But enough about her, or me for that matter,_ the TARDIS continued, pulling Yaz from her thoughts. _This is meant to be about you, dear one._

Yaz bristled at that and could feel the tension rising in her body. She crossed her arms, hugging them tightly around her torso, and turned away from the control panel. This wasn’t fair. The Doctor couldn’t just trap her in some kind of subconscious dream state because didn’t want to talk to her, didn’t want to talk to any of them. She was fine, she was handling it, and she didn’t need their pity or the sympathetic stares that they thought she didn’t notice.

 _They care about you, Yasmin,_ the TARDIS ventured cautiously. _And no offense intended, but you are far from what you humans consider to be fine. They all see it, and I do, too._

Yaz turned back toward the center console as the words sunk in and she felt a churning deep in her gut. Of course—she’d been so concerned with keeping the other three at arm’s length that it had never occurred to her that there was a fourth who had witnessed everything, even more than everyone else; the long, sleepless nights spent wandering the corridors, panic attacks in the shower, flinching at every sudden sound and movement. The TARDIS had seen it all, a silent observer to Yasmin’s steady collapse beneath the burden of her anguish. An unexpected shame suddenly washed over her and she cast her eyes back toward the floor, unable to the look up at the crystalline column that was bathing the room in its usual soft glow.

“I didn’t—I wasn’t even thinking that you—,” Yaz stuttered. “Sometimes I forget.”

 _You have nothing to be ashamed about, my dear,_ the TARDIS consoled her. _But I’ve been watching you very closely, and I’m afraid I’m quite concerned. I’m used to you humans and your emotions fluctuating now and then, but they seem to always right themselves quite quickly. But you, Yasmin; you’ve strayed so far from yourself, pushing away your friends when all they—we—want to do is help you._

Yaz kept her eyes down, feeling tears begin to sting at their corners. “I just wanted to handle it on my own,” she admitted quietly. “I didn’t want to drag anyone into my problems.”

The TARDIS gave a low hum, that Yaz took as a sound of sympathy. _Perhaps, but shutting out the ones who care about you is only hurting them, as well. You must realize this, Yasmin. There’s no shame in accepting their help._

Yaz gave a low growl of frustration and toed at the ground with her boot. “I shouldn’t need help, I’m a police officer. We’re supposed to be the ones doing the helping, not the other way around.”

_Everyone needs help now and then, my dear._

Yasmin looked down at her hands, twisting them anxiously. Of course she knew that, she’d spent the better part of the last week arguing with the voice in the back of her head that kept telling her to just go talk to someone. But she couldn’t get her heart to cooperate, too afraid that if she were to admit how much she was struggling the others—the Doctor—might see her in a completely new and much dimmer light. “I just—I didn’t want them to see me like this,” she admitted quietly. “I didn’t want her to see me like this.”

 _But why is that?_ the TARDIS pressed gently. _What are you so afraid of her seeing in you that could possibly change anything?_

Yaz noticed the boys were no longer part of the conversation, and she knew that it couldn’t be an accident. The TARDIS knew, of course she did. Everything Yaz was thinking and feeling was flooding into her telepathic circuits, which meant that the secret she’d been keeping close to her chest no longer just belonged to her. And yet the TARDIS was letting her sort through her tangled feelings at her own pace. Despite herself, Yaz felt a rush of gratitude for the time machine. 

“Because,” Yaz whispered, the tears in her eyes spilling over onto her cheeks. Stars above, she was so tired of crying. “Because she’s the Doctor, she’s brilliant, she’s seen and done so many wonderful things. And I’m just me; some lowly, unimportant human. I just wanted to prove that I could be more than that, more for her.”

The TARDIS remained quiet for a few moments, and Yaz wondered if she had said something wrong until another low hum filled the room, this one more drawn out that the previous. _Oh, you dear, precious girl. Clever, insightful Yasmin Khan missing what’s been right in front of her this entire time. You truly have no idea, do you?_

Yaz narrowed her eyes in confusion. “What do mean I have no idea? About what?”

 _Yasmin, you are human,_ the TARDIS explained with motherly patience. _You are, and that is exactly why my Doctor loves you so much. And, oh my beautiful child, does she love you._

“She—she what?” Yaz felt all the breath leave her lungs. “No, I would’ve noticed, she’s not nearly that subtle.”

The TARDIS wheezed, a sound Yaz had come to recognize as laughter based on the conversations she’d witnessed with the Doctor. It wasn’t a mean-spirited noise, more like a string of heartwarming giggles, or as close to giggles as the time machine could come.

 _No, she isn’t, is she? Passive-aggressive has never been the way my thief operates. She’d just as soon tear apart the whole of time and space to win an argument rather than adopt subtlety._ Another string of wheezes. _However, I think we’ve also established that you, Yasmin Khan, have a habit of missing the trees for the forest, haven’t we? That is the correct saying isn’t it? Or is it the opposite? Your human idioms can be quite tricky._

Yaz waved her hand dismissively, correcting the saying the least of her worries at the moment. “Doesn’t matter, she said. “What is that supposed to mean?”

 _Oh, hopeless the both of you,_ the TARDIS sighed. Or at least the long whine sounded like a sigh. _Perhaps it would be better if I just showed you, yes?_

“Show me--?” Yaz began, but she was suddenly interrupted by a flood of images and memories of her and the Doctor flashing through her head; what seemed like every intimate interaction they had ever shared together. Some of them were small moments she had tucked away in her heart; stargazing together out the TARDIS door, the Doctor explaining the various parts of the center console, late night conversations over tea and custard creams. Others were larger, more defining moments; the Doctor dropping a kiss to her forehead after Prim’s death, holding her hand as they spoke with Dan’s daughter, Yaz helping her wash her hair after being ducked by the witch hunters.

These and many others, some from her point of view and others from the Doctor’s, but each of them showing an affection that so clearly blurred the lines between friends and something more. The TARDIS was right; she’d been so convinced that her feelings were one-sided, that she had been completely, hopelessly oblivious to what was right in front of her face.

 _Don’t be too hard on yourself, my dear,_ the TARDIS hummed as the images faded back out. _You see what you expect to see, what you believe you are worthy of, not necessarily what you wish to see. At least one of you managed to realize your feelings, my thief practically needed it spelled out for her in both English and Gallifreyan._

Yaz chuckled at the comment, able to hear the machine’s exasperation, and shook her head.

“I always thought it was impossible that she might feel the same about me,” she admitted. “Like, what could I possibly offer someone who has the whole of time and space at her fingertips?”

Another low whine sounded from the TARDIS, something that almost sounded like bemusement. _Yasmin Khan, it’s such a terrible shame, so very terrible, that you truly believe yourself to be entirely unworthy of the Doctor’s affections, when in reality, you are the most worthy of all._

Yaz scoffed and shook her head. “Me? No, that can’t be right, I’m not that special. Never have been.”

 _Of course you are, my dear. You share the same passion, the same wide-eyed wonder for this endless universe as my thief; billions of stars all around you and you want to see it all, explore every crevice and corner. And it’s inhabitants? You haven’t found one yet that you wouldn’t be willing to open your heart for, to help in any way that you can and sometimes at your own expense._ The TARDIS paused, giving her words a moment to sink in before gently continuing. _I watch you marvel so often at the greatness of the Doctor, but you’ve never seemed to stop and consider the greatness of yourself, Yasmin Khan; the girl who wanted more._

The sincerity of the TARDIS’ tone caused Yaz to falter, to really consider her words; “the girl who wanted more.” And it was true, she’d said it herself; she wanted more of the universe, more time with the Doctor, more opportunity to leave some sort of an impact, no matter how small. Maybe that was a type of greatness in and of itself, she thought.

“I just want to help people; to do some good in the universe,” she murmured. “I can’t compare to the Doctor, to everything she’s done in her lifetimes, no matter how long I travel with her and share in on her adventures.” She paused for a moment, considering. “But that’s okay, honestly, because I don’t think there’s anyone that could ever possibly measure up to her.” Yaz smiled fondly. “All I want is for the time I spend with her to matter, to make a difference for as many people as we can. That’s more than enough for me.”

Silence followed her words for several moments before the TARDIS let out a long, steady hum that was unmistakably affectionate in nature. Almost like the sound a mother makes when her child takes their first steps.

 _Oh, you marvelous girl, that is precisely what makes you so extraordinary,_ she insisted. _It’s puzzling to me that you often think yourself so small and inconsequential and yet you have the ability to love for miles, with an unfathomable depth and not a second guess. I must say, it’s the best thing about you humans; you’re all so much bigger on the inside._

Yaz chuckled at the familiar saying. “A lot of people say the same thing about you, you know.”

 _They do,_ the TARDIS confirmed, clearly amused. _Perhaps we are more alike than most would presume, just a difference in our casings._

Yaz reflected on that for a moment. Perhaps the TARDIS was right, as she so often was; perhaps they were more alike than not. And if she was right about that, it wasn’t so hard to believe she could possibly be right about everything else. Yaz just hoped she hadn’t completely spoiled her chances.

“So what should I do then?” she asked timidly. “If I’m really as worthy as you think I am, how do I make up for everything I’ve done, how I’ve acted the past few days?”

 _That is entirely up to you, my dear._ The TARDIS replied. _But I fear our time together is growing short, so if you’d like some parting advice here is something to consider: don’t shut yourself away from love, Yasmin. Don’t shut yourself away from her and all the possibilities the universe has to offer you._

Yaz smiled gratefully. She realized that the edges of her vision were growing hazy and somehow knew this meant that she must be waking up. She gazed up at the crystal column, feeling a new appreciation for the old blue box. “Will we get to talk like this again sometime?” she asked hopefully, her vision dimming with every word until the bright lights of the control room were lost to darkness.

 _Oh, I do hope so, Yasmin Khan,_ the TARDIS sighed kindly. _I really do hope so._

* * *

Squinting against the dim light that seemed to be glowing all around her, Yaz gradually blinked her eyes open with a groan. Her limbs felt heavy and the small headache that had formed during her conversation with the TARDIS had developed into a full-blown pounding against her temples. Vision coming into focus, she slowly gazed around the unfamiliar room, noting its lack of—well, everything; It consisted of only the bed she was lying on at the center of three of the familiar crystal columns and nothing else. Yaz made to sit up, but felt her stomach churn at the action, another groan slipping from her lips.

“You should probably lie back down,” a soft voice came from across the room. “You’re bound to feel a bit of inter-dimensional sickness. Should go away in about an hour or so.”

Yaz’s eyes swept across the room until they landed on the source of the voice; the Doctor, leaning awkwardly against the door frame with her hands clasped nervously in front of her. Despite the nausea threatening the overwhelm her, Yaz smiled. Easing back down against the pillows, she reached out her hand toward the blonde who had yet to move away from the entrance.

“Doctor,” Yaz murmured, encouraging her to come forward with a wiggle of her outstretched fingers. Showing far more caution than she was known for, the Doctor tentatively made her way across the room to stand next to Yaz’s bed, looking the young woman up and down with anxious eyes.

“How are you feeling?” she asked quietly as she folded Yaz’s hand between both of hers.

“Tired,” Yaz admitted. “And my head is pounding.”

The Doctor gasped suddenly, eyes wide as if she’d just realized something. “Oh! Yaz, I’m so sorry, I completely forgot.” 

She moved behind the bed and over toward one of the columns, opening the door of a control panel that Yaz hadn’t noticed before. She turned a few knobs before flipping a switch and Yaz could immediately tell the difference, the pulsing at her temples lessening considerably. She breathed a sigh of relief only to jump at the sudden feeling of fingertips at her hairline.

“Sorry,” the Doctor muttered. “I’m just gonna pull these connectors off. Shouldn’t hurt a bit.”

Closing her eyes at the contact, Yaz enjoyed the brush of gentle fingers against her skin as they pulled wires attached to some kind of sticky pad from each of her temples and the base of her skull. The Doctor made to reach for the collar of Yaz’s shirt before pausing.

“Um, I’m gonna have to reach under your shirt from the last one, okay?” Yaz gave her a quick nod and one of the Doctor’s hands slid carefully beneath the fabric of her top, removing the final connector from just above her heart. With all the wires removed and bunched in her hand, the blonde quickly bundled them up and stuck them inside the control panel, clicking the door shut again before returning to the side of Yaz’s bed and taking hold of her hand once again.

“Sorry about that,” she apologized again looking sheepish. “Should make that headache a lot more bearable now they’re off.” 

Yaz shook her head. “It’s fine,” she reassured. “Were those the telepathic circuits the TARDIS mentioned?”

“Yeah,” the Time Lord nodded, hands warm around Yaz’s fingers. The Doctor cleared her throat in a way that suggested she was nervous, choosing her next words delicately. “She let me know that you were awake. Did you two have a nice chat?” she asked, her voice a slightly higher pitch than normal. She was trying to look nonchalant about the question, but Yaz could see the anxiety shining in her hazel eyes.

“We did,” Yaz nodded, smiling softly. “She’s quite talkative.”

The Doctor chuckled, the sound coming out a bit wobbly. “Yes, she can be. Usually just lets me ramble, but she’s not shy when she’s got an opinion of her own.”

“Oh yes, she had plenty of those,” Yaz grinned. “Turns out she was right about most of them.”

“I hate it when that happens.”

They shared a smile for a few moments, everything seeming normal between them, before the crushing weight of reality became too much and they each had to look away, Yaz fidgeting with the Doctor’s fingers while the blonde became suddenly fascinated with a loose thread on the bed sheet. After a few minutes of silence, the TARDIS made herself known, flashing the lights in the room as a scolding hum echoed around them.

“Alright, alright,” the Doctor grumbled, glaring up at the nearest column. “Keep your circuits on.

Yaz giggled. “What did she say?” She already missed being able to hear the lilting voice of the time machine.

“That she didn’t go to all this trouble just to watch us dance ‘round the subject,” the Doctor huffed.

Yaz hummed quietly, nodding slowly. “Probably has a point. Seems we’ve been doing quite a bit of dancing for a while now.”

“You’d think our feet would be tired by now, yeah?” the Doctor grinned cheekily. It was such an absurd comment, paired with that toothy smile that always seemed to take up the majority of her face, and Yaz couldn’t help it; she burst into laughter, the Doctor joining in as they leaned against each other for support.

Once their giggles had subsided, Yaz looked back up at the Doctor with soft eyes, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “So did she give you a talking to as well?”

“Actually, it was the boys,” the Doctor admitted sheepishly. “They knocked some sense into me over a cuppa. Seems I was bein’ a bit oblivious about you and me.”

“Wait, Ryan and Graham knew?” Yaz jaw dropped, a light blush dusting her cheeks. 

“Yep. Seems everyone else figured it out long before we did,” the blonde chuckled with an amused shake of her head. “Well, before me, anyway.”

“I should have just talked to you sooner,” Yaz confessed sadly. “Instead of bottling it all up and shoving it down. Might’ve saved us a lot of trouble.”

“Maybe,” the Doctor nodded noncommittally. “Not to mention the pointless arguments.”

Yaz swallowed thickly, recalling their last conversation. “Doctor,” she began mournfully. “About what happened earlier. In the control room—”

The Doctor shook her head. “I’m sorry, Yaz, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s alright.” 

“No it’s not alright,” tears gathered in the young woman’s eyes and threatened to spill over. “I was completely out of line. I’ve been keepin’ everything inside and pushing you all away when I should have been letting you in. I let my emotions get the better of me and I lost my temper.” She hung her head, ashamed. “I could’ve really hurt you.”

“But you didn’t,” the Doctor ducked her head to get Yaz to look at her again. “I’m fine. And you’re not the only one who lost their temper. I said horrible things; things that never should’ve even crossed my mind, but they did and I made you believe that I meant them.” She reached forward to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Yaz’s ear. “I reacted horribly to everything and told you that I didn’t want you here when nothing could be further from the truth.”

Yaz bit her lip, realizing that some small part in the back of her mind was still worried that the Doctor had meant what she said, that she didn’t want her aboard the TARDIS. “Really?”

“Really,” the Doctor nodded, her face entirely serious. “You will always have a home here for as long as you like.”

Yaz chanced a glance up at the Doctor through her eyelashes. “And what if I never want to leave?”

The Doctor’s lips curved up into a smile. Not the usually cheeky smirk or grin of a madwoman on a mission, but a soft, gentle thing that Yaz had never seen before; as if it had been designed especially for her.

“All of space and time with Yaz,” she murmured, her hazel eyes sparkling. “Brilliant.”

The space between them had become almost non-existent as they had slowly leaned in closer and closer to each other while they talked. In that moment, a million possibilities existed in the air between them, but for Yaz there was only one that mattered.

“Doctor,” she began, her eyes flicking down to the blonde’s lips and back up as if asking for permission. The Doctor gave a brief, almost imperceptible nod and the gap between them disappeared.

Their lips met eagerly, fitting together in perfect rhythm. The Doctor’s hands buried themselves in Yaz’s hair while the younger woman gripped her gently by the hips beneath her coat. There was a quiet desperation in their movements, Yaz’s tongue coming forward to swipe along the Doctor’s bottom lip, which opened for her willingly, deepening their embrace. Yaz’s hands snaked around the blonde’s waist, pulling her shirts free from the blue trousers and slipping beneath them to trace light circles against her lower back. A purr escaped from the Time Lord’s throat at the sensation and she arched into the touch.

Eventually, the lack of air became too much and they broke apart, both pink in the face with kiss-swollen lips, and rested their foreheads together as they savored the moment. The easy silence was broken a few moments later by a satisfied hum from the TARDIS, causing the Doctor to laugh.

“What did she say?” Yaz breathed, nudging the blonde’s nose with her own.

The Doctor raised her hand to cup Yaz’s jaw and look into her eyes. “She said, and I quote, ‘It’s about bloody time.’ I can’t say I disagree.”

Yaz grinned and pulled her in for another kiss, this one slow and sweet with the promise of all the time in the world for more. When they pulled away, the Doctor was looking at her with an awestruck tenderness that she often only reserved for the wonders of the universe.

“Yasmin Khan,” she murmured affectionately, tracing her jawline with her thumb. “You know that I can’t make you any guarantees. A life with me is hardly normal or predictable, and it can be quite difficult at times. But, if you’ll have me, I can promise that I will always make it worth it.”

“Doctor,” Yaz shook her head. “I know you’re always concerned about our safety, that you think you’re constantly responsible for our well-being, but I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.” She reached up to thread her fingers through messy blonde hair. “I don’t want normal and predictable. I just want you, you mad, impossible woman. You have always been more than worth it.”

The Doctor smiled and leaned forward to press a kiss to the younger woman’s forehead, earning a soft hum in return as Yaz began to twist a lock of the Doctor’s hair between her fingers.

“Do we—um,” she cleared her throat nervously. “Do we have to leave this room just yet?”

The Doctor shook her head. “No, I have us floatin’ in the time vortex for now, so we have nowhere to be. Besides, you still need to sleep off that inter-dimensional sickness for a little longer or you might fall ill.” 

“In that case, do you want to join me?” Yaz asked, shuffling over to make room and receiving an eager nod in return. 

The Doctor shed her coat and kicked off her boots before climbing onto the narrow bed, pulling Yaz close until she was flush against her side; one arm wrapped protectively around her waist while the other slipped into her long, dark hair. Humming contentedly, Yaz wound her arms around the Doctor’s middle and settled comfortably against her, face nuzzled into the blonde’s neck. The TARDIS dimmed the lights in the room, leaving only the soft glow of the crystal columns above them.

They had more to sort through, more promises and apologies to make, but it could all wait. For now, all that existed was the two of them alone in this room; tucked away in each other’s arms, safe and content in their own personal, little universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading guys! And thanks so much to those of you leaving comments and kudos, it means the world to me! <33


	6. Sing Your Melody, I'll Sing Along

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Have a nice, mostly fluffy epilogue to officially wrap everything up!
> 
> No beta, so all mistakes are mine.

Yaz couldn’t sleep. Try as she might, she’d spent the past few hours tossing and turning to no avail. Finally admitting defeat, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and grabbed her dressing gown off the hook by the door. Barefoot, she padded down the corridors quietly, making her way to the control room where she knew she’d find the Doctor tinkering away into the late hours of the night. However, when she stepped through the doorway, the familiar amber glow washing over her, she noticed that the room was eerily silent, save for the gentle hum of the TARDIS.

“Doctor?” she called quietly but received no answer. Walking further into the room, Yaz rounded the main console and found a sight that chilled her to the bone; the Doctor, unconscious and slumped against the control panel with her hands bound to the railing above her head.

“Doctor!” Yaz cried in shock, panic lacing her voice. She only managed to take a single step toward the Time Lord when she was stopped in her tracks by a cold, clear voice ringing out from the shadows.

“I wouldn’t recommend that, Yasmin Khan.” 

Yaz spun around, the voice coming from behind her, and found herself face to face with the last person she ever expected; herself. 

Well, not quite herself, but close. The woman looked exactly like her, but a few subtle differences gave her away; the way she held herself was far too rigid, the angle of her jaw much too sharp, and the look in her eyes too hard. She was Yaz, but she wasn’t; a cheap imitation with a devilish grin that caused a thrill of icy fear to race up Yaz’s spine. 

“Who are you?” she demanded.

The doubled chuckled. “That is unimportant and quite irrelevant,” it replied. “We have more pressing matters at hand to worry about.”

Yaz heard a low groan behind her and turned to see the Doctor stirring. Blinking her eyes open, the blonde squinted against the glow of the crystal columns and tried to sit up straighter, but was held down by the restraints around her wrists. Surprise then panic crossed her face before she whipped her head around, eyes scanning the room until they found Yaz watching her frantically. 

“Yaz?” the Doctor rasped, voice weak as she tried to understand what she was seeing. “Are there two of you or did I hit my head again?” Her eyelids suddenly fluttered and whine of discomfort tumbled from her lips before she fell silent again.

Yaz turned back to her double, seething. “Let her go,” she demanded through gritted teeth. Her double grinned wickedly.

“Oh no, I don’t think so,” it replied, voice cold as ice. “I like her helpless and out of the way. Besides, this isn’t about her, it’s about you.”

“Me?” 

“Yes, you; Yasmin Khan,” The double’s repeated before it sauntered past her to crouch before the Doctor, who had fallen back into unconsciousness. “The Oncoming Storm,” it chuckled mirthlessly, grabbing the blonde roughly by her jaw to inspect her better. “Pathetic.”

The Doctor’s eyes opened heavily at the touch and looked up into the double’s eyes, her own hardening immediately. “You’re not Yaz,” she murmured.

“Well-spotted, Time Lord,” it sneered, shoving her face to the side as it let go of her. It leaned in close until it was nose to nose with the Doctor. “I’m very much going to enjoy watching the light leave your eyes,” it threatened softly before pulling back with a toothy grin. The Doctor lunged, but was held in place despite her efforts. With a harsh bark of laughter, the double turned back toward Yaz, its eyes flashing dangerously.

“And now, back to you Yasmin Khan,” it hissed. “The girl who wanted more, but never deserved it. The girl who just got lucky.” 

“Yaz,” the Doctor called desperately, struggling against her bonds. “Yaz, don’t listen to it. Don’t let it get into your head.”

The double laughed again, high and cruel. “Foolish Doctor, I don’t need to get inside her head,” it began to stalk back toward Yaz. “I’m already in there. Every doubt, every fear, every self-loathing thought; I am already a part of you, Yasmin Khan.”

“What do you want?” Yaz’s voice wavered, but she stood her ground. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here because of you, Yasmin, and every vicious thought that’s ever entered that pretty little head of yours” it smirked. “Because you know, deep within, that you don’t deserve to be here.” It paused in front of her, its teeth glinting in the dim light. “That you never have.”

Without warning, Yaz’s double gave her a firm shove and she found herself tumbling backwards. Behind her, Yaz registered a familiar click and realized that the doors of the TARDIS had swung open and she was free-falling toward the black expanse of space beyond them.

“No! YAZ!”

As Yaz fell, the Doctor’s scream echoed all around her, gripping her heart with icy talons. She flailed her arms in every direction, looking for any kind of purchase but finding none. Approaching the threshold of the TARDIS, she made a final, wild grab for the edge of the doorway.

She missed.

Plummeting toward the cold, unforgiving embrace of the universe, Yaz closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable, the Doctor’s voice ringing in her ears.

“Yaz! YAZ!”

* * *

“Yaz!”

With a final shake, Yaz was jolted from sleep with the Doctor sitting over her, hands gripping her tightly by the shoulders. Gasping for air, she lurched upright, knocking the blonde aside and nearly to the ground. Her breaths came in short bursts, sticking in her throat and choking her. Spots started to obscure her vision and her head felt like it was floating from the lack of oxygen. Just as she thought she might pass out, Yaz felt a pair of warm hands carefully cradle her face, thumbs brushing lightly against her cheekbones. 

“Yaz,” she heard the Doctor call quietly, not wanting to startle her. “Can you hear me, Yaz? You don’t have to speak, just nod your head.” Yaz nodded sharply, using the blonde’s voice as an anchor.

The Doctor took hold of her hand and pressed it to her own chest, just above the beat of her hearts. “Okay, can you see me? Can you look up at me?” she instructed gently. Yaz’s eyes traveled slowly until they found the familiar hazel she had grown to know so well. “Good,” the Doctor encouraged. “Now focus on my breathing and try to match it, yeah? In for four seconds and out for seven, just do as I do.”

The Doctor took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled it slowly from her mouth. Yaz followed suit, trying to match the rise and fall of the Time Lord’s chest beneath her fingers. They repeated the exercise several times, the Doctor’s gaze never wavering as the younger woman’s breathing began to slow back to a normal pace. Eventually, the Doctor removed Yaz’s hand from her chest and held it between her own, lifting it to press a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

“Feeling better?” she asked quietly. Yaz nodded shakily, leaning forward to rest her head on the Doctor’s shoulder. The blonde rubbed small circles up and down her back, giving the young woman the time she needed to properly collect herself.

“How did you know to come find me?” Yaz mumbled after a while, turning her head slightly so that she was able to nestle into the curve of the Doctor’s neck.

“The TARDIS noticed that your sleeping patterns had suddenly become irregular,” the Doctor explained, slipping an arm around her waist. “Your adrenaline spiked and you were movin' about restlessly, so I came to check on you.” She brushed Yaz’s hair back from her forehead, slightly sticky with sweat. “Another nightmare?”

Yaz nodded timidly. It’d been a fair few months since their run-in with the Draugnar and Yaz’s subsequent trauma, and nightmares still plagued the young woman now and then. They were random and disconnected; sometimes verbatim recollections of the monster’s hands around her throat, others with new scenarios and new monsters to torment her, and more still that preyed upon her own doubts and insecurities. However, every time and without fail the Doctor would come running to pull her from the clutches of the night terrors and hold her close, reminding her that she was safe and right where she belonged.

“Want me to stay with you?” the Doctor asked, combing her fingers carefully through Yaz’s hair. “Help you get back to sleep?”

“I always want you to stay,” Yaz mumbled, snuggling further into the Time Lord and inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

Smiling softly at her slurred speech, the Doctor gently broke Yaz’s hold on her t-shirt and helped her back beneath the warmth of the duvet. Quickly divesting of her boots, socks, braces, and trousers, she slid in next to her. Wasting no time, Yaz immediately curled her body into the Doctor’s warmth and tucked her head back beneath her chin as the blonde wrapped her arms tightly around Yaz’s waist, smoothing her thumb over the exposed skin at her hip. Eager to return the affection, Yaz slid her hands beneath the Doctor’s shirts and began to trace light circles against the sensitive spot at the Doctor’s lower back, smiling lazily when she heard the Time Lord hum at the touch. 

“I love you,” Yaz whispered a while later in the darkness, thinking that the Doctor had long since fallen asleep.

They’d not said it just yet. They’d shown it in a thousand different ways, but neither of them had plucked up enough courage to actually say those three little words that carried the weight of the universe in their meaning. Thinking she’d gotten away with her confession when she hadn’t received an immediate response, Yaz froze when she saw the Doctor slowly peel her eyes open and look down at her tenderly. She smiled, the one that she only reserved for Yaz, and tightened her hold around her waist. 

“Yasmin Khan,” she breathed, nuzzling the top of her head before pressing a kiss to her dark hair and then another to her lips. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading this story and sticking with it. All of the comments and kudos have meant the world to me! <33 
> 
> I've got more stories in the works for these two lovable dorks, so keep an eye out in the future! In the meantime, feel free to come say hello to me on tumblr, you can find me @pandora-spockz. Please don't be shy, I love talking to you all and making new friends :)


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